


some killer queen you are

by koisurufortunecookie



Series: centricide but it's just lesbian porn [2]
Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Cognitive Dissonance, F/F, Fantasizing, Internalized Homophobia, Masturbation, Racism, but everything that happens irl (within the story) is above board, nazis a bottom and she likes to think she isnt, oh also bc nazi pov, the situation she's fantasizing about is...... dubious consent-y, where you can't really give enthusiastic consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28707519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koisurufortunecookie/pseuds/koisurufortunecookie
Summary: three times nazi fantasizes about fucking ancom, interrupted by memories of three times she got fucked by ancom.
Relationships: Anarcho-Communism/White Identitarian | Nazi (Centricde), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Series: centricide but it's just lesbian porn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916236
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	some killer queen you are

**Author's Note:**

> what is it about nazi povs that are so fucking fun to write? it's great getting in the head of this absolute fucking mistake. 
> 
> anyways, hiya, me again, centricide lesbian porn, you know the dril. these are gonna be pretty short chapters, it's not an overly long fic, so don't come in expecting CMOYP 2 or anything. oh, quick warning- as i just said (and as the tags suggest), this is a nazi pov and an anfash fic! even getting past the usual Blue Woman Shitstorm that comes just by virtue of who she is, considering that this version of ancom is Not White, that is going to mean some veeeeeerry questionable comments about race on nazi's end. i'm sure i don't have to say this after everything, but just in case: nazi is a massive piece of shit and i do not endorse literally anything she says. fascism can get fucked (extremely literally, here). depending on how you want to view ancom's gender here, nazi is also potentially misgendering them/quem throughout the whole thing, so do be aware of that!
> 
> anyways! with that out of the way, enjoy the first chapter!

After this long living in the same house as Ancom, Nazi has learned how to rationalize away all the feelings the anarchist awakens in her. Well- maybe that’s not the best way of describing it. She doesn’t really have a good explanation for it. The shameful tightness in her chest and hard pounding of her heart when the leftist stood close enough to her certainly haven’t gone away. But after long enough in inescapable proximity, those feelings came to a head, and…

In any case, they have an arrangement now. Things are tolerable. Not like there isn’t room for improvement, something she thinks about right now as she lies alone in her bed, staring up as if the shitty stucco ceiling  _ (Ancap is so fucking cheap when it comes to anyone except herself, the goddamn Jew)  _ holds the answers. As embarrassing as it was to even think about, she was… A bit more submissive than she’d ideally want to be when it came to the anarchist. W-Which was just because she was less experienced, after all! Ancom is a fucking whore, of course she’d take the lead with all the knowledge! But alone with her fantasies… It didn’t have to be like that.

Originally, Nazi’s evening plan was just to re-read  _ Men Upon The Ruins _ and go to bed. But with Ancom on her mind, that’s unlikely. So instead, she closes her eyes, allows her thoughts to take her somewhere else.

Wouldn’t it be nice, having the anarchist under her thumb for a change? At first, she considers the setting of a particular war, but quickly changes her mind. No, no, there was much too high a risk of rumours spreading among those particular camp guards. Best to imagine a camp in an undisclosed modern setting, a brighter future where her  _ volk _ had a new nation of their own and she had more privacy. Then it would be easy, ordering the anarchist to make the long walk from the prisoner barracks to her quarters. 

It’s easy enough to imagine, the girl dragging her feet as she comes closer and closer to the inevitable, finally ending with a hesitant knock on Nazi’s office door. “Come in and close the door behind you,” she’d say so smoothly, gloved hands folded neatly atop her maple wood desk. The door would open slowly, a sliver of Ancom’s face appearing before she steps in, honey-toned skin illuminated by the warm lighting of the room. What was she again? She’d told the fascist where her earliest memories took her, but that conversation was a long time ago. Mi- No, it was Myan… Whatever. Some irrelevant little place in Asia that Nazi didn’t care about. What it did mean was an exotic little Asiatic thing in her office, standing in sullen silence. Her hair would be loose of the usual pigtails, thick black locks ending around her collarbones where her uniform slid down. Speaking of, that uniform would be a little loose- she’d probably have lost some weight, with that rebellious attitude ensuring she’d lash out and lose rations as a result. The anarchist wasn’t chubby as it was- curvy by nature, but perhaps slightly pudgy around her hips. Ten pounds less from a little forced diet, and she’d be just perfect. 

Speaking of, that would probably be related to why Nazi was calling her in. While she slips a hand under the blankets in real life, rubbing herself gently through the barrier of her panties, the imagined version of herself sighs dramatically, leather-gloved hands shifting her hat to rub at her forehead. “This is the third time this week you’ve gotten a write-up from a guard. What, exactly, do you gain from spitting on people asking you very reasonable questions?”

This Ancom huffs, crossing her arms and glaring at Nazi. “Why the fuck would anyone need to know why I was in the showers? There’s never any hot water as it is, so it’s not like I’m using it up.”

There’d be warm water for the officers, of course, but Ancom wouldn’t need to know that. “According to the complaint, you were in there for almost half an hour. You know you’re being watched constantly after all those escape attempts. Since you wouldn’t tell him, now you’ll tell me: what were you doing in there?”

Rolling her eyes, the anarchist makes a ‘tsk’ noise under her breath. “This one will really shock you, but I was in the showers to take a fucking shower.”

“For thirty minutes? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Not too sure you’d actually want me to answer that one honestly.” Ancom replies flatly.

It’s difficult not to imagine the smaller girl as being painfully annoying even in her fantasies, but while her real self works to tug her panties past her nightgown and down her legs, the Nazi in her fantasy finally gets to her feet, slowly making her way around her desk. She can feel Ancom’s eyes on her, examining her up and down, blue blouse with a particular armband, pleated grey skirt brushing her knees, heeled ankle boots. Very elegant compared to the loose, pajama-like nature of the prisoner’s uniform covering the majority of Ancom’s tan skin. “Really,” she sighs, “I suppose I’m just trying to get you to outright admit it.”

“Admit that I was fucking showering?”

“Ancom,” Nazi turns her head, blonde braids tilting along with her officer’s cap, “How many other women sleep in your barrack?”

Green eyes flick left, the girl apparently running some quick calculations from her memories. “Uh, counting me? Sixteen, I think.”

“All those people in the same hall must mean you have very little privacy.” Humming under her breath, Nazi folds her hands behind her back, taking a few steps toward the other girl. In real life, Nazi begins to trace her slit, taking a deep breath while picturing how the imaginary conversation continues. “By this point, I’m sure you’re more than a bit… Frustrated.”

Ancom tries to take a step back, only to hit the door. The girl’s eyes narrow, though there’s a suspicious pink dusting on her cheeks. “What are you talking about?”

Reaching forwards, imaginary Nazi’s hand slowly brushes against Ancom’s hair, taking a lock in her hands and twirling it gently around her finger. In the real world, her thumb moves to circle her clit, gently stroking herself as her mind carries on. “I think you know exactly what I mean. In a place without privacy in your sleeping quarters, you spent a precious thirty minutes alone in an isolated space. It doesn’t take a genius to piece together what you were doing in there.”

Ancom, already barely making it to five feet, would seem so terribly small under her. With cheeks abruptly turning red, the girl pauses before choosing her next words with caution. “... You know what? Let’s say I was doing exactly what you’re implying. Why the fuck do you care?”

That was more or less a confirmation in Nazi’s book. She releases Ancom’s hair, lowering her hand slowly to lock the door with a satisfying  _ click.  _ “That kind of filthy thing is unbecoming of someone who’s here to be re-educated into a proper young woman able to do her job for the state and raise a family. So you have two options: first, we announce exactly what your crime was at the end of the week, and you can be flogged with all the other rulebreakers.”

It required an insane amount of cognitive dissonance to shame this imagined Ancom for masturbating while the real Nazi was picturing all this while touching herself, but she wouldn’t be who she was without that detachment. In any case, the Ancom in her mind grits her teeth, hands at her sides curling into fists. “... And the other?”

“The other,” Nazi responds, bringing up her hand to rest on the girl’s hip, “Is for you to take a different punishment in private right now. In fact, this one will help you work out some of that frustration you have building up in you. So what will it be?”

Eyes widening, Ancom visibly swallows, earlier nonplussed expression shifting into a conflicted mess. Eventually, the girl opens her mouth, speaking so quietly Nazi almost doesn’t hear her. “... Second one.”

Of course the whore would pick that one. Maybe this imagined Ancom would put on an act of being conflicted, but Nazi knows better; even while padding over her clit with her thumb, she can acutely remember the first real thing thing that made her realize the depths of Ancom’s sexual appetite. It was about a month after living together, where an argument while the two were home alone turned into a ‘shut up/make me’ fight, which had then turned…

Well, it turned out alright.

* * *

(“Ohhh my god, oh my god-!”

“Wow, you sure get worked up fast. Guess it makes sense considering you aren’t getting any action from your turbovirgin followers.”

Perhaps under normal circumstances, Nazi would be barking at Ancom to shut the hell up, but by the time she’s caught her breath, the anarchist is flattening her tongue against her clit, and any angry words are instantly replaced by embarassing gasps as her hands scrabble for purchase against the blankets. 

Ancom’s room was more or less what Nazi expected, which is to say it smelt like weed and was painfully messy. _ Conservative would have a goddamn field day here _ . But given that the fascist is currently splayed out on the unmade bed with the smaller girl’s head buried between her thighs, there are bigger things on her mind than mentally criticizing the pile of laundry blocking access to the closet. She tries to get an insult out again, but by the time Nazi tries speaking, Ancom is humming with her lips around the rightist’s clit, and the blonde is bucking her hips upwards with a gasp. “Nng-!”

“Yeah? That do something for you?” Ancom mostly moves with her, aside from one hand moving to gently push her hips back onto the bed as the other moves to run a digit up and down her slit. “I would have made a move on you way quicker if I knew you were this cute in bed.”

“Shut up, goddamn dege-“ Nazi cuts herself off with a shocked moan as Ancom slips a finger inside her, one that turns into an outright  _ scream _ when the anarchist curls it inside her in a way that makes the rightist see a flurry of stars, back arching violently against the bed. 

For her part, Ancom just giggles like the annoying bitch she is, sound muffled as she places her mouth back over Nazi’s clit, but not before apparently deciding more words were in order. “So the little queen of the master race likes getting her pussy eaten by an untermensch  _ and _ a woman? How naughty.”

In between thick gasps of air, Nazi manages to wheeze out a few choice words. “You- You don't know anything, you whore.”

Laughing again, Ancom’s breath is hot over the rightist’s core, fingers still moving in a way that makes Nazi’s head feel like it’s spinning. “Weird, ‘cause I’m almost sure I know exactly how to make you scream my name.”

And over the next minute and a half, it turns out she does know that. Go figure.)

* * *

Before she realizes exactly how her thoughts have wandered, Nazi’s toes are curling, her breath is shuddering, and she’s arching her back as she cums against her hand, thick gasps for air almost unheard by how fast her heart is pounding in her ears. Just her own heartbeat and Ancom’s smug little laughs, ringing through her head as her orgasm rocks through her body.

It takes her a minute or two after her breath has finally calmed down to realize she let her thoughts get away from her there.

Son of a bitch.

Nazi pulls her hand up from her legs faster than a teenager when their mom walks in, throwing the blankets over her head and growling a few angry slurs into her pillow. That didn’t prove anything! It… It was just a memory of a good time she’d had, that’s it. Obviously that would override a fantasy, it just made sense considering how  _ physical  _ those memories were. Nothing else about it. That’s it!

… Maybe this isn’t going quite where she’d hoped. You can only justify so much under the watchful eye of post-nut clarity.

Ugh. This is stupid. Pulling down the blankets to a less suffocating level, Nazi turns to face the wall, sighing deeply at nobody in particular. She needs to fucking sleep, and then maybe she can worry about the power dynamics that need to be rearranged with Ancom. 

She’ll figure it out. Whatever.

**Author's Note:**

> ah, lesbian anfash. now this series has two opp unity fics involving an authoritarian getting topped. how about that?
> 
> anyways, i actually have a discord server up and running for fans of fem centricide stuff! we share art/fics/headcanons/basically anything involving politigirls, and it's a nice cozy place with a great group of folks! i'd love if you'd use this link and join us!: https://discord.gg/ac53geJdVg
> 
> in any case, thanks for reading! if you have a spare moment, i would be eternally grateful if you left a comment or kudos, and regardless, i'll see you next chapter! bye bye!


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